


of lost stars

by BnessZ



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Angst, Bokuaka - Freeform, Character Death, Dark, Flashbacks, Fukurodani Syndacite, Fukuroudani, Gang AU, Gangs, Heavy - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, KonoBokuAka, M/M, Space Metaphors, i'm not crying, you're crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 06:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15113642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BnessZ/pseuds/BnessZ
Summary: When a third of your whole is taken away, you do anything to find their light again.





	of lost stars

**Author's Note:**

> You read the tags and warnings. I apologize for nothing. 
> 
> "Kill Our Way To Heaven" By MichL is mood for this.

The man stares up at Keiji in horror.

Behind him, Keiji can hear Bokuto rounding up the rest of them. Shouts, curses, shots, bodies being tossed. All the sounds bounce off the walls, back to Keiji's ears. But he doesn't move. He glares down the barrel, eyes locked on the man.

There are pleas spilling from his lips, apologies, anything he thinks may change their minds. It doesn’t. Bokuto continues his destruction and Keiji keeps his gaze burning but even. Nothing in this world can change their minds, not on this.

Not when a third of their heart has been ripped away from them. Not when there is something so achingly hollow in his chest, in Bokuto's eyes, that neither are sure they're still breathing.

The world is a cold, dark place, and their light was snatched away, snuffed out, and this man is one of the many who must answer for it.

So he can beg and grovel and tremble all he wants, but Keiji has no hesitation pulling the trigger.

He doesn't even feel the blood when it splatters across his face.

*

_“Are you guys...sure about this?”_

_“Why, are you not?”_

_“Well, no, I mean…” Konoha looks away, cheeks pink. “I always thought you two would end up together.”_

_Bokuto laughs. “Everyone has been saying that, but it never really felt right, you know?”_

_Keiji hums agreement. “The two of us are still incomplete and you're our missing piece. You always have been.”_

_Konoha's breath catches and he finally looks Keiji in the eye, then Bokuto, then back. “Really?”_

_The two men in question simply smile and wrap him in their arms._

_“I don't know if I've ever been this happy,” Konoha says. “I love both of you so much.”_

*

The paper burns in his hand.

Komi stands a few yards away, taking in the ghastly sight of Keiji. His once lean frame is now thin and ragged. He's leaned on the desk, almost sitting back on it. Bokuto sits at the chair, head on Keiji's leg, presumably asleep, though Komi can't remember the last time either of the two actually got any rest. One set of long fingers cards through Bokuto's hair, the other holds the dying paper like a feather. The orange flickers across the too pale face, accenting the dark purple hanging from his eyes.

“What is that?” Komi asks.

Keiji doesn't take his eyes off the flame, watches as it grows closer to his skin. He should set it down, let it burn away on its own, but part of him wants it to make contact, to let it melt him away, too. “A list of names.”

Something churns in Komi’s stomach. He briefly glances at Bokuto before going back to the fire. “What names?”

Finally, Keiji peels his gaze away from the heat, lifting his head to meet Komi's eyes. “The ones we have taken.”

A chill runs up Komi's spine. Keiji has always had a calm, rather monotone voice, but now it is filled with ice and despair. There are no inflections anymore, nothing that gives it any of the warmth it once held.

Komi swallows a lump of coal. “So... it's over now?”

A bitter, empty laugh crawls out of Keiji's chest. Bokuto lifts his head just as the flame touches Keiji's fingers, who hisses and drops the last remnants of parchment.

“This is just the beginning,” Bokuto says, taking Keiji's hand into his. He closes his eyes, kisses the blistering flesh. “The end is too far to reach.”

Once, Komi admired the way Bokuto would slip into his vague, poetic thoughts. Once, Komi marvelled at how deep and insightful the leader of the Fukurodani Syndicate could be.

Now, Komi is nearly brought to his knees by the voice laced with ruin.

The flame dies out, pitching the room in a blue darkness.

“Komi.”

He startles. “Yes, Akaashi?”

“Tell everyone that we move at dawn.”

“Right. Goodnight, guys.”

They don't reply. Keiji's eyes follow Komi out the door, waiting until it clicks closed and he's alone with Bokuto. He lets out a rattling sigh. “We aren't going to stop, right, love?”

“Never.” Bokuto locks eyes with Keiji, the moonlight providing just enough visibility to see a stray tear. “Never ever, love. Not until they lose it all. Not until they lose their light and direction and being.”

Keiji hums, pressing a kiss against Bokuto's mouth. “Everything they stole from us.”

It's a promise. The only thing that is keeping them standing.

They ignore the fact that it's an empty one, that what was taken from them cannot equate to anything else.

They ignore how they've been robbed of their sun and their moon and their stars and their anchor.

*

 

_"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to grab a star?"_

_"Kou, stars are--"_

_"Yeah, I know, I know. But listen, Keiji, Aki. They always say 'reach for the stars' so there has to be some way to grab ahold of them. What if they just sort of form around you if you do? And then you're shining and glowing and suddenly full of light and life.”_

_"...that would be beautiful, but--"_

_“Keiji, don't tell me it's impossible. Imagine how unstoppable you'd be. You get it, right, Aki?”_

_"Yes, Kou. In life you'd be an untouchable force, and then, even in death, you’d still shine for those you love."_

*

Pink is just beginning to touch the sky when they gather.

Keiji stands behind Bokuto, in front of everyone else. He fiddles with his fingers, pulling at the burnt flesh, savoring how he can actually _feel_ the pain ripple through him. It brings everything around him into sharper clarity.

Bokuto straightens himself, hands behind his back, twitching and bleeding where only Keiji can see. “Alright, everyone. As you know, this group is largely responsible for Aki--” his voice cracks. Fingers clench, reopening cuts. Keiji tears his own marred skin in response. “--for Aki’s death. Our objective is clear and simple: take down any underlings, locate the leaders, and drag them here. Keiji and I will take care of things from there.”

Murmurs pass through their gang members, their team, their family. Some of them shift in uncertainty. Shirofuku tries to catch Keiji's eye, but he pointedly looks away. They've heard the whispers, the concerns and objections, the words passed to each other in secret.

Except there have never been any secrets Bokuto and Keiji cannot uncover. That's why they can do what they do.

That's why they know how and where to hit to make their enemies pay.

Keiji's finger begins spilling red. A nervous energy hovers in the room, pressing down on them like static. No one has moved.

Bokuto growls. “Understood?”

They stand a little straighter at the tone, nod once, and disperse. For a gang, Fukurodani has always worked more like a tactical unit. It's one of the reasons they've never been caught, why enemies so rarely see them coming. Their leader may be a loud clown of a man, but they never hit when or where expected.

Bokuto turns around to Keiji and everything about him deflates. “Another step in the dark, babe.”

Keiji grabs Bokuto's face, guides it to his shoulder, caresses his neck. “Yes, my love, but in the darkness lies stars.”

“Our North Star is there somewhere, isn't it, Keiji?”

“Yes, Kou. Our brightest and truest guide is there, waiting for us to come home.”

An aching sigh leaves Bokuto's chest before he straightens. They look into each other's eyes for a moment, dark and clouded with grief. These past few weeks have been full of moments like this, moments where they are left with no words, no will. Moments where, once upon a time, Konoha would say something to break the heavy atmosphere. But now they just look at each other as they break and crack and spill, over and over.

Without Konoha, they are as incomplete and unstable as ever.

Keiji takes one of Bokuto's hands. “It’s time, Kou.”

Bokuto takes in a large, faltering breath, nods, and turns away. He doesn't let go of Keiji's hand, not even when they're loading themselves with weapons. Keiji doesn't mind. It may be the only thing anchoring either of them to this world.

The Syndicate moves as individual pieces to one unit. Everyone knows their tasks, their places, and Keiji and Bokuto walk through the path carved for them, hand in hand. They don't flinch when Bokuto pulls his trigger, when Keiji slices cool silver against burning flesh. So long as their people are standing, nothing stops them.

Not even the blood dripping down their own bodies.

They come to a stop in front of a man, tattoos indicating he holds a high position. It is only then that Bokuto releases his cold hand, crouching down.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he intones, his voice only an echo of itself. “Who might you be?”

The man is shaking, eyes are slightly bugged, but he tries to put on a look of neutrality. “I'm nobody of consequence, really.”

Sarukui and Suzumeda tackle someone behind Keiji, threats pouring from their lips. The man's eyes flicker to them, to Keiji's steely gaze, back to Bokuto. “Honestly, I--”

“Listen, pal,” Bokuto says, one eye squinting. “I don't have time for your bullshit. So you're gonna answer my questions before we have to involve Keiji.” He digs the barrel of the gun into the man's hand. “And trust me, you don't want to deal with an angry Keiji.”

The man looks at Keiji again, who raises a brow, makes a show of putting on black gloves, just to prove a point. Something flickers across the man's face. “Okay, okay. What do you want to know?”

Usually, Keiji would smirk in victory. Usually, Keiji would lean down, hovering above Bokuto, using his shoulder as support. Usually, Konoha would not be far behind snickering and keeping everyone away.

Now, Keiji just feels a cold emptiness that even his searing rage can barely touch.

“Who did it?” The words seethe out from between Bokuto's teeth. The gun presses into the man's hand harder. He flinches. Bokuto doesn't notice.

“Did--did what?”

“Don't fuck with me, pal. Who did it?”

“I really have no idea what you're talking about.”

Bokuto twitches forward but Keiji crouches next to him, pushes against his chest. “He simply doesn't understand, Kou. But I think I can help.” He brings his blade out, wipes it clean of blood with his gloves. He handles it lazily, the point bouncing in front of the man. “You know of us, don't you?”

The man gulps, nods. Bokuto doesn't move his gun.

“Then surely you heard of a man named Akinori?”

The name is shards of glass in his throat.

“Akinori?”

“Konoha,” Keiji adds quickly. Every part of his body laced with ice.

“Oh that bas--”

The blade is drawing a red line on his cheek before he can finish. Keiji gives a smile filled with nothing but hatred, and his voice becomes acidic, “I'm sorry. What was that?”

The man's breath catches, unable to move his face or hand. Bokuto presses down harder and Keiji hears something crack. The man lets out a short yelp before clamping his mouth shut.

“So you do know of him,” Keiji says, using the tip of the knife to lift the man's chin. Wide, eyes are staring at him in terror. “Which means you probably know who killed him, right?”

Tears are flowing down his cheeks, one mingling with the cut, causing him to wince again. “It--it was _them_.” The man is trembling now, eyes darting, giving a name to the vague answer.

Bokuto's lips pull over teeth in a grimace. “You're sure?”

Frantic nodding, a slight whimper.

“Hey, pal, thanks.” He looks over, catches Keiji's eye. “Unfortunately for you, you made Keiji angry. Don't say I didn't warn you.” Bokuto gets up then, rests his hands on his knees. “There is no stopping a star once it goes Supernova, after all.”

Keiji's mouth sets in a firm line, twitching up as he carves into skin, agony bouncing off the walls.

The man's pain still pales in comparison to Keiji's own and Keiji almost envies the breathless state he leaves the man in.

 

*

_Keiji walks in the door to darkness._

_All the lights are switched off, and only a sliver of dying sunshine peeks through a curtain. He releases a long breath, toeing off his shoes, and flips the nearest switch._

_A groan comes from a blanketed mass on the couch._

_Keiji pinches the bridge of his nose. He takes in the stack of dirty dishes, the trash bag sitting by the door, and attempts to prepare himself. Hours of going over financials for the gang, of deciding where to hit next, and Keiji is bone tired. Anxiety has kept him awake for days, as it tends to at the end of the month._

_He cannot deal with this today._

_And yet, “Koutarou.”_

_The blanket shifts and Keiji can barely make out dim, gold eyes. “Hey.”_

_Something simmers in Keiji's chest. With a heavy sigh, he responds, “That’s all you have to say?”_

_The blanket shifts with a half hearted shrug._

_Every muscle in Keiji’s body tenses. He seethes, breathing heavily through teeth clenched so tight, his jaw aches. He can’t move, otherwise what little composure he has left will crack. To think someone would dare walk on the thin ice that is Keiji’s patience today. “Is this really all you’ve done today? Sat around and moped?”_

_The Bokuto shaped form stiffens. “I can’t explain it.” His voice is half stuck in his throat, muffled more by fabric. “There’s no way to make you understand.”_

_Those words cause the Keiji to shatter. Iceshards fall all around them as he makes his away over, a whirling storm of nerves and anger and exhaustion, burning frostbite covering his body. Nothing can stop him as he rips the blanket away from Bokuto, unveiling a wreck of a man. A hint of guilt tickles his gut, but he ignores is. It is always, always, about Bokuto. What about Keiji’s feelings?_

_“I just wanted you to do one thing for me, Koutarou.”_

_“Why don't you do it then?” Bokuto snaps. “If you're so high and mighty--”_

_“Excuse me? Do you have any idea what I've done today? All because you, the leader, doesn't understand how?”_

_“Gods, leave me alone, won't you? I know I'm worthless and pathetic.”_

_The hot coal in his chest falters. “That isn't--I just--Koutarou. I just wanted you to do one thing for me.”_

_“Yeah, well, I can't do anything.”_

_Keiji can’t find the words or strength to respond. He slumps on the floor in front of the couch. All his patience has run out the door, replaced with an unsettling anxiety and anger. He doesn't know what to do. Not about Bokuto, not about the mess, not about Sarukui sitting in the hospital. Everything is closing in, and he’s left with tunnel vision._

_“Just leave me be, Keiji.”_

_Taking a staggering breath, Keiji looks up, into Bokuto’s eyes for the first time. The golden irises are clouded over, muddled. Two toned hair falls loosely around a pale face. “Koutarou--”_

_The front door opens. “I’m home!~”_

_The voice is cheery, warm. A knot tightens in Keiji’s stomach as Konoha sees them, stills, and blinks._

_“Keiji? Koutarou?” Worry is thick in the spoken names. “What’s wrong, loves?”_

_Keiji can’t help it when tears spill down his cheeks. He digs nails into his own flesh, buries his face in the cushion beside Bokuto’s leg. He can hear the sound of grocery bags hitting the floor, of rushed and heavy footsteps, before he is pulled into a warm chest._

_“Kou, what happened?” The panicked words vibrate through Keiji’s head._

_“I--” Keiji can’t see him, but he imagines Bokuto wetting his lips, pushing back tears. “It’s a bad day, Aki.”_

_There’s only a moment of silence before a soft yelp from Bokuto, and then another body is pressed against Keiji._

_“You know,” Konoha says, voice gentle, running a hand through Keiji’s hair, probably Bokuto’s too. “Both of you are so strong. You both deal with so much and I am so proud of you.”_

_Keiji is choking on his sobs, on the ice that burns away, but always comes back. “Aki, I yelled.. I yelled at Kou and he...he didn’t deserve it.”_

_“Shh, love, I’m sure he understands.” Konoha peels Keiji’s face from his chest, makes him meet Konoha’s soft eyes and smile. “Don’t you, Koutarou?”_

_Keiji shifts his gaze to Bokuto. The man’s face is wet and red and puffy and he sniffles before answering. “Yeah. Even Keiji has rough days.”_

_The knot in Keiji’s gut releases quickly and suddenly, causing new tears to spring to his eyes. He reaches across Konoha, grips Bokuto’s hand. “Sorry, love, let’s clean together tomorrow, okay?”_

_“There, there,” Konoha coos. He grins, gives them both a kiss. “Everything will always work out as long as we’re together.”_

_*_

Keiji jerks awake not even an hour after falling asleep.

He isn’t surprised at all when Bokuto immediately responds, wide awake. “Keiji?” He reaches out, pulls Keiji close, kissing his curls. “Nightmare?”

Keiji is shaking, burying his face in Bokuto’s chest, gripping Bokuto’s shirt so tight, his knuckles turn white. “He should be here,” he cries.

Bokuto’s entire form goes rigid. The only sound for several minutes is Keiji’s haggard breathing. The room is cold, too cold, and so very empty.

Sometimes, Keiji feels as if he is drifting off, floating away into space, with Bokuto’s hand clasped in his. Something is missing. Something that is supposed to keep them on their feet, to give them somewhere to go.

All Keiji and Bokuto can do is cling to one another, each a fraying lifeline for the other in a crumbling world.

“He should be here,” Keiji says again, choking on the words. Bokuto’s chest heaves with a sob.

They have no _Gravity._

“Aki should be here.”

*

_They stand in front of the Fukurodani Syndicate._

_Bokuto in the center, tall and strong and proud. His golden eyes gleam, a wide grin across his face. Keiji is to his right, slightly behind, smirking. To Bokuto's left is Konoha, hanging back, looking out of place._

_It's the first time he has stood up front, and only after Bokuto proclaimed, “well if Keiji is my right hand man, then you must be my left!”_

_Konoha was so happy that Keiji didn't point out the how ridiculous it sounded._

_Bokuto is raining compliments on the group for their most recent stunt. Not only did they leave with full pockets and tracks covered, none of their own had any serious injuries. They delivered on all their threats and dodged the ones thrown their way. It's the most success they've ever had._

_“To celebrate, Washio is going to cook us up a real good meal!” The group cheers. “We are Fukurodani, bird of prey, and we will take to the skies unmatched.”_

_Everyone raises a fist and only quiets when Washio starts barking out orders to help with food. They're all here, grinning, standing on their own two feet. No one has needed a sketchy doctor in weeks and it makes something warm settle in Keiji's chest._

_Keiji watches them disperse, scattering like stars in the night sky._

_Bokuto turns to him, smile as bright as ever, and Keiji wonders, not for the first time, if there exists another universe where that smile is never covered in blood; another universe where they are not full of darkness and scars and rotting bones._

_“We did it, Keiji! You were right about everything!”_

_A puff of a laugh escapes him. “I always am, Kou.”_

_“Yeah, yeah!” Bokuto slings his right arm around Keiji's shoulders, plants a kiss on his cheek. “Give me some credit once in awhile, won't you?”_

_“Only if you actually earn it.”_

_“Keiji!”_

_A grin pulls on his lips, one that only two people can draw out. It's taken them years to convince Keiji that even someone like him is deserving of happiness._

_Keiji blinks, looks up. “Aki?” His voice cracks just slightly, as if he's still the child calling after ghosts._

_Bokuto's smile falters. “Aki, where are you? You're still here, aren't you?”_

_“Yeah, of course.” Konoha's voice comes from Bokuto's left, where it should be. “I'm still...getting used to being here and not with the crowd.”_

_Slinging his arm around Konoha, Bokuto pulls them close. “Well you better get used it!”_

_Keiji grins wider, letting his teeth show. “You'll be with us from now on.”_

_“Yeah.” They exchange kisses and Konoha's face is warm and drunk with affection. “I'll always be with you.”_

*

“My left side is cold.”

It's a single sentence, a mere five words, but Keiji nearly falls over from the impact. He looks over to Bokuto, whose posture is slumped, knees bent as if they may give out at any moment. Keiji doesn't know what to say. His entire existence is frozen over, lined with cracks. Even Bokuto can only melt away so much of it.

“It's so cold, Keiji.”

Keiji clenches his fists, bites his lip so hard he tastes the metallic blood. “I know, Koutarou.” He wraps his arm around the shaking man, aware of everyone walking past them, and buries his face in Bokuto's right shoulder--always the _right_.

“I'm a black hole, Keiji, and I'm just pulling everyone in with me. And it's _not fair_.”

Something inside of Keiji cracks, as if he isn't already shattered beyond repair. “I know, love. But we've finally made it.” His chest is hollow and cold and aching. “This is the final stop.”

*

_“Hey,” Bokuto whispers, hesitant._

_Keiji closes his book around his thumb and lifts his head from Bokuto's shoulder. Konoha does the same on Bokuto's other side._

_“Yes?” Keiji says._

_“I've been thinking…” Bokuto looks down at his hands, plays with them the same way Keiji usually does. “What if we… dissolved the Syndicate?”_

_A silence falls over them. Something is fluttering in Keiji's chest and he can't tell if it's good or bad. Their group is the only thing he has known for most of his life. What would he do without it? Where would they go? How--_

_“I think that's a great idea, Kou,” Konoha cuts into Keiji's thoughts._

_Bokuto's head snaps up. “Yeah?”_

_“Yeah! We've probably got enough to retire, right? We could live beside the ocean and grow old in peace. Don't you agree, Keiji?.”_

_Peace. Keiji has never even considered that word when thinking about his life. There has only ever been chaos and destruction and pain. So much pain and--_

_“Keiji?”_

_Startling, Keiji looks at his boyfriends, eyes blown wide. He doesn't realize he's breathing heavily until two hands are on his chest._

_“Breathe, love,” Bokuto murmurs._

_“What's wrong?” Konoha asks._

_Oh._

_His life isn't filled with only pain anymore. It is no longer an icy wasteland haunted by ghosts. Now, his life has these two beautiful stars in it, looking at Keiji as if he is everything._

_“Nothing,” he grins, pulls their hands away to kiss knuckles. “Let's do it.”_

_Bokuto beams, pulls them close for a hug. “I love both of you more than anything. Let's end this chapter and start a new one. Together.”_

_“Yes,” Konoha says. “We're gonna live together happily from now on.”_

*

“You guys are monsters,” the woman spits.

Keiji lifts his chin, glaring down at her with eyes full of bloodlust and agony. He pulls on the bottom of his glove, waiting until Bokuto stands beside him again before speaking. “We are what you made us.”

“Don't fuck with us.” That man says. “You’ve always been a fucking monster, Akaashi Keiji.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bokuto growls. He leans forward, his one eye squinting as always, and digs a thumb into one of the man's open wounds. “Don’t you dare talk to Keiji that way.”

A hiss of pain escapes the man's mouth. The woman breaks eye contact with Keiji to look over. “He's even more of a menace than you are, Bokuto Koutarou.”

Something in the way she says Bokuto's name twists Keiji's gut in a knot. It's similar to how Konoha's name was called out before he fell.

Keiji pulls his knife out, uses it to turn her face back to him. “I am only what you made me, what Aki and Kou need me to be.”

“Konoha is dead. He doesn't need you to be anything.”

Renewed anger floods his veins and Keiji buries the blade in her thigh, the scream barely reaching his ears. “Say either of their names one more time, and you'll be begging for death.”

Her breathing is ragged but she smirks at him. “You’re just full of empty threats. You've been teasing us with death for hours now.”

Bokuto laughs without humor. “Death is too good for you bastards.”

“Besides, I still want an answer to my question. Why Aki and not one of us?”

The man and woman look at each other. Their faces are bruised almost beyond recognition. Burns and cuts litter their skin and every inch of them is covered in blood. Keiji knows they're only conscious due to the injections, but he still wishes there were a way to inflict more pain upon them, to make them _understand._

They smile, the man locking eyes with Keiji. “We wanted to break you until there was nothing left.”

“Clearly, it worked.”

“How does it feel, I wonder, to watch a part of your world get ripped away.”

Keiji lunges forward and nothing can stop the silver flashing across skin, crimson gushing out in a never ending flow of scorching heat. Keiji's nostrils are flaring, body trembling, pupils blown wide.

It's not enough, he thinks, watching the skin grow paler. It's not enough, he thinks, his heart heavy against his ribs.

Nothing will ever be enough because it's too late and Konoha is already gone.

Bokuto pulls Keiji back against his chest, rests a hand in his curls. “Breathe, love.”

Keiji's chest is heaving and he twitches when the woman chokes on a sob. He wants to bring more pain to her life, to completely crush her soul and mind, but Bokuto holds him in place.

So Keiji doesn't see what happens next. He doesn't see what expression she is wearing, can't read her lips when she whispers too quietly. He can only feel Bokuto tense, lift his gun, and shoot one final bullet.

“It's over, Keiji.”

When Keiji speaks, the words shake and burn. “Yes, Kou, we did it.”

It's a lie and they both know it. The cling to each other in the silent room, covered in blood and sin and full of aching, decaying bones.

It will never be over, not as long as they are still breathing.

*

_Bokuto is smiling as he takes life after life, a sinister side to him that few witness._

_Keiji follows after him, taking care of his blind spots, never once flinching. The rest of the Syndicate works through the rest of the room fluidly with no hesitation._

_It's the same as always._

_Until it isn't._

_“Konoha Akinori!” A voice shouts. Keiji can't describe what he hears in the name, but it clenches his heart and he moves his head to where Konoha stands unaware and--_

_A round of bullets. Konoha's body jerks, falls, seeps red._

_Everything shatters._

_Keiji is running. He can't feel his legs, can't see his surroundings. He isn't even sure if Bokuto is with him. A scream is being ripped from his throat as he falls to his knees beside his blonde lover._

_“Aki!” Bokuto is shouting, directly across from Keiji. “Aki, no!”_

_“Hey….loves…” the man pants._

_Tears are streaming from Keiji's eyes. He and Bokuto grab behind Konoha's neck, lift him slightly, kiss his face._

_“No, no, no,” Keiji murmurs. “Stay with us, love.”_

_Everything is red and cold and buzzing._

_Ice starts at Keiji's fingertips, spreads far too rapidly to his chest. When Bokuto pulls away, wailing, it takes over Keiji's entire being._

_Eyes slipping shut, Konoha caresses both of their cheeks with a finger meekly. “My stars…” he coughs, spraying blood on their faces. “My beautiful...shining stars… I love you both so much.” His hands go limp. Keiji crumbles. Konoha's last words are wrapped in his final breath, “Chase...sunsets for me...okay?”_

*

They don't wake anyone.

Keiji slams the trunk closed, turning to Bokuto. Neither of them have slept or eaten in days _(months)_ and it shows in how they tremble, how they crumble with every step they take. He reaches out, wraps his arms around the once strong waist. He whispers things of love to Bokuto, of love and loss and everything they are, everything they should have been.

Weak arms return the embrace and murmur about the night sky and an undying love that spans across life and death.

They share a long, slow kiss, before pulling away and getting in the car.

They drive off in the darkness, speeding to their Northstar, their guiding light, full throttle, and nothing holds them back.

**Author's Note:**

> You read the tags, and the warnings, and still made it to the end. What are you, a masochist?
> 
> I have a lot of people to thank, but especially:  
> Dani, for being there and supporting me the entire time  
> Panda&Mira for leaving notes and editing tips  
> My Akaashi GC for everything, always
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/starsoakedskin?s=09)


End file.
